You were saved by a Mutie, normal
by Rads
Summary: When a young mutant comes across a fallen Remy/Gambit, a wanted criminal, he decides to do the right thing. Corrected and all shiney with a second part for fun... as fun as it can get. Please Read
1. One shot

Disclaimer: I do **not **own X-men Evolution   
  
  
  
  
**One-Shot**  
  
  
  
**  
  
You got saved by a Mutie, normal**  
  
  
  
  
  
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Remy LeBeau was a theif by nature, a charmer and a mutant in denial. He was also a street rat/brat/kid. Living it rough, struggling through the winter and in a thief's paradise during the summer ( tourists, gullible tourists). A survivor by nature, a fighter in the tightest situations and incredibly resourceful when he wanted to be. Gambit.  
  
Although if you asked him," Are you a mutant?" he'd deny it though he'd had training and his complete control over his power screamed otherwise. His power, his gift was the ability to bio-kinetically charge objects. i.e. he touch object, object go boom.  
  
Another more subtle power was a minor, perhaps not even, the power- to charm people, he seemed to be able to sense people's feelings and react accordingly. He was a cunning empathic.   
  
He was seventeen this year, the actual date of his birthday - he couldn't remember or care.  
  
As he slinked through the alleys he decided to stay low... as he'd just robbed a museum. His hand in his pocket was gripping a very nice diamond tiara thing. He knew its entire history but that was just a formality- he always liked to know exactly what he was risking his skin for.  
  
He wore an old trench coat, old trainers and dark colours in general. His hair was auburn, brownish, hair longish, tied back, long bangs/ fringe.   
  
Limping was definitely not a common thing for the usually agile and graceful thief, but having a dramatic bullet rip through your leg seemed to cause that particular outcome. He grunted, ignoring the searing heat, he would have simply stopped running if it wasn't for the police and their handy dogs on his trail.  
  
  
Yes, for the first time in seven years of missions (indeed he'd started 'working' at eleven) - he'd totally screwed up.   
  
A minor miscalculation in putting the security cameras on a loop for only four minutes had been grudgingly stupid on his part. He had totally underestimated the bored security watchmen and his own sluggish attempts at reaching his prize.  
  
Remy was ignoring the black dots blipping his eyesight; he'd been 'running' for two hours and had no intention of stopping until he had to. He had to been sure that he wasn't caught. A sloppy bandage ripped from the material of his trench coat was soaked through with blood from his wound, his movement only aggravating the problem.  
  
It was dark but part of his mutation was red on black mutant eyes, Diablo Blanc eyes that could even glow if he got pissed off enough- they also granted him night vision.  
  
  
It was night as previously mentioned and with the blackness there was silence, a relief to Remy at least. It was also cold, but he would have been cold either way- blood loss.  
  
  
He started to stumble, his body swaying and scuffing a wall, he wobbled into the other wall of the alley as well, he fell to one knee, got back up but fell again.  
  
He landed flat out on the concrete just as he made it out on to an open street and passed out at the feet of another youth, tripping the youth in the process.  
  
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His second name was Skye and he preferred walking at night when there were less people to stare at him. He was a mutant; he preferred the term 'Life empowered' but often had to settle for 'freak' and 'mutie'.   
  
It was only slightly obvious that he was a mutant. His hair was nearly white; ice blond was the actual colour. His fringe, his bangs were long and obscured the sides of his vision. The long strands occasionally covered his eyes in a way that made him feel like he was in prison. He didn't mind.   
  
He'd let his night glowing hair grow and tied it back, usually he wore a black sweepers cap, bright light blue eyes peering through bangs. His hair slightly glowed during the day but it was less noticeable than at night.  
  
His clothes were usually dull green, brown, and black with large boots. He looked like a soldier with was weird because Skye was a fond believer in peace.  
  
  
His first name was Orlando.  
  
  
After leaving the cinema, watching any movie he could sneak into, Harry Potter was crowded; it was easier to slip in when there was a mob. He stood at the back row for two hours plus. It didn't bother him; he'd been treated like an animal when he was younger so standing for two hours was nothing.  
  
  
Leaving at about ten (he'd been at the late showing) with a box of popcorn 'borrowed' from some parent who had somehow fallen asleep, he walked along the street, his footsteps eerily making no noise on the concrete pavement.   
  
Suddenly he tripped over something, popcorn flying from his hand and bouncing along the pavement. He leapt to his feet and calmly surveyed and pieced together the picture.  
  
Kneeling down beside the fallen figure his calm voice seemed to even pacify the air itself, "You look a lot different from the photo those cops released, my mutant buddy".  
  
Skye leaned down further, put the thief's arm over his shoulder and unsteadily stood up, "I would take you home, but even I don't want to go there. Plus my parents already count me as a stray, they won't want two" the cold condensation came from his mouth and caused small puffs of white cloud.  
  
Orlando Skye looked both ways down the street, no witnesses and knelt back down, " You're a **heavy** stray, might help if you weren't loaded with so much stolen stuff" his ghostly blue eyes focused on the heavy looking trench coat, large pockets looking filled and a diamond trinket hanging half out.   
  
Skye eyes scanned down the fallen youth and found the source of the problem, blood from the leg. Skye hated blood, thick, red stuff. He felt beyond compelled to make it stop bleeding and return it to its proper flow, it was instinct, perhaps need. He could smell blood and it made him feel ill.   
  
He shifted his body, and half crawled over to the offending leg, injury. He pushed the thief's baggy black jean leg up slightly to reveal the injured skin. His white, bright blue eyes glowed slightly white at the sight of the raw injury, it looked infected and his eyes were now totally pure white.   
  
Orlando closed his eyes, the glow escaping from the bottom of his eyelids still. His hands were abrupt in igniting in light, pure blinding white. He mentally prayed that there were no witnesses.  
  
He put his hands together, one on top of the other and pressed the covered hand right onto the wound. The warm blood that was previously oozing from the bullet wound shrunk down, dried and wisps of a breeze took the particles into the abyss.   
  
The light from Skye's hands went inside the actual tear and knitted it up from the inside.   
  
Skye could feel the pain that it had caused lessen into nothing, externally speaking the skin closed over and even small details such as leg hair reappeared.   
  
The thiefs leg was left exactly as it had been **before** the injury. Orlando had no need to take the bullet out because it had ripped straight through, it wasn't there to extract.  
  
  
"Urgh" Remy's eyes flickered open, he felt ... fine. Perhaps even better than ever. He wasn't in any pain; He was expecting his consciousness to be an uphill struggle.  
  
"You're welcome" came a tired, weak but calming voice.   
  
Remy LeBeau shot up from his shockingly uncomfortable position on the ground, standing perfectly on his fully healed leg. He looked around for the owner of the voice and saw nothing. He looked for any sign that he'd been injured, not even any dried blood. Another mutant?  
  
He couldn't see anyone; the usually echoing streets were as silent as the grave. His theif instinct had him checking his pockets for his stolen goods, a chain with a diamond piece in it was missing -but in its place he had a note,   
  
"Nothing is for free. You got saved by a mutie, normal".  
  
Remy smirked.  
  
  
  
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Rads: Pointless, right? At least i got to add my own little dude for one fic.  
  
**Please review**; criticize, what ever you wish except flames  
  
  



	2. Saved second part

Disclaimer: I do **not** own X-men Evolution or any of its characters. Nor do i own the song :Crash and Burn. ie. I do **not** own the song Crash and Burn.  
  
  
**Saved  
**  
  
**_When you feel all alone  
And the world has turned its back on you  
_**  
Crawling back to the institute Gambit's coat concealed a hard nights earnings, earnings that he'd nearly lost along with his life.   
  
Being a thief wasn't the brightest career to have and he knew that his 'friends' (if they could be called that) wouldn't approve if they ever found out.   
  
He gracefully scaled the tall metal gates, waving cheekily at the concealed cameras that he was positive were there and walking smooth up to the friendly _family_ building, Remy couldn't help but feel that he was home.  
  
After hearing about the Institute for 'gifted' children- he remembered how he'd happily sketched out a simple re-con mission, after all there had to be something good to steal. Underestimating their security system was a definite mistake and he grudgingly acknowledged that, but leaving himself open to 'surprise' was something he was still bitter about. The place that he'd came to professionally rob was not what it seemed.  
  
The institute turned out to be a place for mutants, a sanctuary. After barely escaping undetected Remy had strolled in the next day and enrolled!   
  
Though the man Logan (code-named Wolverine) seemed to recognise him; he merely played the fool saying that he was fresh out of New Orleans. Liar.  
  
The door had moonlight shadows across the wood and Remy cautiously pushed the door opening, aware of impending squeak. After that there was no noise whatsoever.   
  
The thief rushed to his room, adrenaline high with the near death experience of being shot, he never noticed Logan watching him from the darkness.  
  
Logan lit his cigar, 'Stupid kid' he thought along with a typically Kitty-ish word, 'busted'.  
  
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Orlando Skye ran home as though the ghosts of the dead were haunting his every rushed step, he felt bad. That horrid cold trickle down you're back along with that deep blinding fear that you'd done something both wrong and stupid were fresh in his mind.   
  
Saving a life is never a stupid thing to do, sneaking out of your basement/bedroom and forgetting that you're parents would (out of sheer badness) come back early- was.  
  
Nevertheless, Skye opened the tiny window and slipped into the pitch black and musty smelling room desperate to pretend that he'd been there for hours.   
  
He was too late.   
  
He knew this even before he saw his father storm into the room wielding a crow bar, even before his pathetically drunken mother stood at the door with her snotty little smile.  
  
He was in trouble…again, his eyes flickered at his destroyed television and trashed wardrobe.  
  
'Where were you?' his mother asked, though obviously didn't care with her sickening parody of a concerned smile. Skye felt queasy beyond the sickest, he tried to draw his energy onto his skin. The power always felt warm, like love -it was comforting.  
  
His white aura was gone and his powers were no longer active enough to even heal a scratch. Skye wouldn't be able to heal another person till dawn, nor would he be able to heal himself.   
  
To be honest it was his mind he was worried about, the damage was often reflected in **his** fear of other people (normals). Healing an unconscious person was the bravest thing he'd ever been able to do.   
  
His father stepped forward, Skye instinctively took a step back, ''I can explain this'' he struggled out. He wasn't a coward but he wasn't a natural fighter. Even his mutation couldn't stand violence and it wasn't settling his mind.  
  
**_And people can be so cold  
When darkness is upon your door  
And you fell like you cant take anymore_**  
  
  
'We were worried' his father spat out in contempt.  
  
"Yeah, right" Skye replied a little too quickly and was now backed against the small window.  
  
'Care to repeat that?' it was a challenge, they both knew it. His father was just daring him to reply.  
  
'Not really' the healer muttered, he felt like surrendering there and then.  
  
''Bad boy again, not your fault- you're just a freak'' his mother slurred out, ''Can't even 'pretend' to be normal''.  
  
''Stop embarrassing yourself'' the words were never meant to be said but after so many years, his thoughts and actual words had finally been mixed up. Skye's shoulders slumped as he realised that his mother no longer existed, not underneath the alcohol or even in his faintest memories.  
  
He caught a blurred motion made by his father and leapt aside with a flurry of platinum hair, dodging the threatening crowbar.   
  
'Tonight really isn't the night!' he tried to sound diplomatic whilst his mind was cursing in many languages. His mind was screaming, his thoughts racing and without him noticing- projecting.  
  
**_Lemme be the one you call.  
  
I can mend a broken heart  
If you need to crash and burn  
_**  
  
The window was his only option and so Skye totally ungracefully scrambled to it. It would take too long to unhinge it and slide himself back through to freedom.  
With a minor hesitation he smashed it and glanced at his fist sparing a fleeting thought- for the first time in a few years blood dripped from a wound unhealed.   
  
  
**_You'll breathe again_**  
  
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Remy snuggled into his pillow feeling shallow for enjoying the warmth. His mind was running over what had occurred in the past few hours, still he didn't had an answer. He wasn't really conscious enough at the time but his life had to have been saved by a mutant.   
  
His hand still clutched the note he'd woken up with, '_You were saved by a mutie, normal_'. He smirked every time he thought of the word 'normal'. Remy knew he should tell Professor Xavier but in order to do that… he have to answer questions about his night time ventures.   
  
He sat up with a frustrated sigh, sleep seemed to be elusive though he knew that by all rights he should be exhausted. He blinked, his red on black eyes seeing the room in perfect night vision.  
  
(Gambit join us in the landing bay. This will be your first mission. Be prepared)  
  
At first Remy thought that he'd been hearing things but then remembered being told about the telepathic (if not abrupt) messages that Xavier or Jean occasionally send in emergencies.   
  
He groaned and hauled himself up, scrubbing a hand over his face and racing through the mansion. He stumbled without his usual grace, knocking into Rogue. They both hit the floor, she gave him a nasty look and told him to "get a move on, the Profs picked up a new mutant signature in the area!" she rushed out.  
  
He thought of the coincidence but buried down his rising panic like a good professional thief.   
  
He bolted into the Blackbird Hanger, already geared up. The others, namely Scott, were still pulling on their outfit shoes and in Rogues case her gloves.  
  
Remy saw Logan watching him out of the corner of his eye, was he deliberately trying to make him nervous?  
  
"Greetings, Monsieur Logan" Remy chanced a cocky grin to receive a stone glare.  
  
The Professor always had a certain presence when he entered a room- knowing more than anybody else. He also looked at Remy with a curious glance. 'Not as scary as Logan' Remy acknowledged.  
  
"We've located a mutant in the area, non-brotherhood. His mind reached out for help and it is our responsibility to answer. Cerebro has identified the mutant as having a healing capability, recognised" Xavier looked Remy straight in the eyes, "from an earlier incident".   
  
  
"So we're going to ask him to join us?" Kitty excitedly asked.  
  
"Yes, Kitty" the Professor answered with extreme patience.   
  
**_  
You're not alone_**.  
  
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Skye walked more calmly down the street, breathing ragged as he realised that he could never go home. He'd die first. He grimaced as his hands tingled, warning him of the power problem. Skye needed sleep more than a brisk walk on a freezing night. He wrapped his arms around himself and looked to the ground, counting cracks in the pavement.  
  
"Hi" a voice interrupted his thoughts. He raised his almost white, blueish eyes and brushed a platinum strand of hair behind his ear.   
  
"I was wonderin'" the voice continued, "You need a friend?"   
  
Blueish eyes met a face wearing shades, "Not really and there's no point in talking to me if its drugs you're selling" Skye kept his voice neutral bordering on monotone.  
  
"How 'bout a sanctuary instead?" the boy smiled though seemed unused to offering help.  
  
Skye squinted and looked at the teenager in front of him "Do I know you?" he asked, taking in the auburn hair shining a little under the glare of a street lamp. The trench coat also seemed to be familiar.  
  
"My names Gambit" the teenager offered, "an' I'm from d'Xavier Institute for Gift'd Chil'ren".  
  
"I've heard of that place. Mutie friendly place? Least that's what they say on the street. It's a bit late to be recruiting for school, isn't it?" Skye somehow couldn't muster up any of the fear he knew he should be feeling, just talking to a normal person was dangerous.   
  
He'd healed a little girl once and the public reaction hadn't been the warmest hence his glorious move/flee to the sleep Bayville town.  
  
"'Pends on whether y'have a gift", Gambit struggled on and at Skye's sceptical if not a tad unsure look he added, "So m'not good at the sales pitch. Gimme a break, dis my first time tryin' to recruit!"  
  
Skye closed his eyes and concentrated, he mentally scanned the teenager for any cuts, bruises. Nothing.   
  
"Don' go to sleep on me. Give me a chance to finish the pitch" Gambit insisted but Skye interrupted.  
  
"We have met" Skye smirked, "you were saved by my 'gift'".  
  
"Mutie" Gambit played with the word in his head, tossing it and trying to place it, he reached into his pocket.  
  
Skye reached into his combat trouser pocket and pulled out a diamond thingy on a chain as Gambit pulled out a piece of paper.  
  
**_You're not alone_**  
  
  
  
When Remy and Skye went to join the others at the Blackbird, the others had been waiting for a while just in case something went wrong.   
  
"This is Orlando Skye" Remy clearly introduced the shy healer after making a deal with him.  
  
"Hi" Skye smiled, "I need a place to crash" he awkwardly admitted.   
  
"Welcome to the Xavier Institute" the Professor smiled and led Skye to the Blackbird.  
  
Logan watched them go, Remy was about to join them but he placed a hand on the kids shoulder, "That was awfully easy, you two met before?" he growled in a rather feral tone.  
  
"Non" Remy kept his face carefully guarded, "Jus' talented in the art of persuasion".  
  
"Gambit get a move on!" Skye yelled down, "Don't make me shoot you!"  
  
"Now he learns to shout" Remy sighed and made a hasty retreat onto the Blackbird.  
  
"Damn kids" Logan muttered.  
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**END**  
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Rads: Just something i've been playin' with. I apologise for the spelling errors (if you tell me where they are- i'll correct them). And for the dodgy paragraphing (that even a word?)  
  
Anyways!_  
  
**Please review!!  
  
**Flames and Trolls not welcome.   
  
^_^**  
**  



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